Inspector Profiles:

The Hard-faced bastard

This inspector is education's answer to Reggie Kray. He
positively revels in the authoritarian approach, and believes he
has failed if he hasn't managed to intimidate most of the staff.
He refuses to smile and believes that eye-contact is a sign of
weakness. The children will very likely be afraid of this
individual, possibly mistaking him for a NAZI prison guard, or an
insurance salesman. However, that won't worry him at all, as he
won't lower himself to speak to any of them. Be warned though,
you may be unfortunate enough to witness him conversing with the
many voices in his head during quiet moments when he believes he
is alone. If you should here him utter the words "I think
the time has come mother" ... RUN!

The Inspecting Granny

Being recently retired, this lady is filling in a few hours
between Tupperware parties. She is under the illusion that
teachers actually welcome Ofsted, and will enter the school with
a warm smile and a home-knitted cardigan. She comes from an age
when teachers could find time to run after-school clubs and
prepare breath-taking productions, and when the closest anyone
came to a numeracy hour was working out the change at the tuck-shop.
By the third day of the inspection expect her smile to have
disappeared somewhat when she realises that her many helpful
comments regarding crochet and cottage loaf making are likely to
be a little redundant.

Ms Two-Face

This devious person will spend the duration of the inspection
convincing everybody that she is "on their side" .
Comments such as "it's really a partnership" and "we're
here to support, not to judge" will flow from the lips like
a warm, friendly fountain of empathy. Within minutes of entering
the school, she will be on first-name terms with everyone, and
will make a special point of having a friendly chat with the
caretaker in full view of the rest of the staff. Her warm
understanding smile appears to say "I am a thoroughly honest
person - you can trust me". Then, away from the eyes of the
staff, she will tear apart every minute of what has been
witnessed, and the integrity of every member of staff will be
questioned. Be warned, this inspector has less dignity than Peter
Stringfellow's hairdresser.

Mr Lay-Inspector

It is quite likely that this clever-dick has not stepped foot
in a school since he was thrown out of his local comprehensive at
the age of 15 for setting fire to the headteacher. However, do
not fear, this won't stop him from feeling fully qualified to
judge the level of success of every lesson he observes. He feels
that he is slightly demeaning himself entering into the world of
education, believing that most teachers are work-shy scroungers
who could learn a lesson or two from the cut-throat business
world from which he occasionally emerges. He was reluctantly
dragged into his parents' business at the age of eighteen, and
having had a fluke win on the football pools in 1987 believes he
is your town's answer to Richard Branson.

Mr Trivia-Knowitall

This humble moron believes that it is his professional duty to
criticise every single thing you do (so long as it is within his
boundaries of understanding). He feels obliged to make
suggestions about all aspects of your job, from the manner in
which you call out the register, to the type of gerbil food you
buy. He won't listen (his ears stopped working long ago), so don't
even bother trying to discuss anything with him; he will be far
too busy planning how to tell you that the height of your clock
is totally inappropriate, or the pile on your carpet is the wrong
grade. You may well get away with serious misdemeanours, such as
standing a child in the corner balancing an I- Mac on his head,
or insisting that the children share one copy of Tess of the D'Urbervilles between thirty-two, but if you should prepare a
newsletter using an "ugly font", or use a 2H pencil
instead of an HB when filling in an official form, be warned - he
will spot it!